


Cult-ivation

by animegrl421



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Cults, Humor, Immortality, Innuendo, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Seduction, Serial Killers, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animegrl421/pseuds/animegrl421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle ends up in a secret room at Kenny's house that leads to a dark discovery. Too bad when the police show up, nothing is there. Kenny is telling everyone Kyle's insane while everyone just agrees, even as Kyle tries to tell them it's quite the opposite. Is he really insane? And what's with this cult of supposed immortals? CultLeader!Kenny, Insane!Kenny, (Bad)ImmortalHunter!Kyle</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Speeding Cars

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a mix of Nikki Mirai and My Dearest (Princess) Occulta. And since songs inspire chapters, each chapter has a song name. Unoriginal, but if you want to listen to the inspiration, there it is.

**_Chapter One: Here's the Day You Hoped Would Never Come -_ Speeding Cars, _Imogen Heap_**

RING RING RING

Kyle pulled his comforter over his head, ignoring his obnoxious cell phone for the moment. It had to stop ringing eventually, right? Right. The phone stopped its rings suddenly, silence once more surrounding the teen. Sighing in relief, the redhead rolled over in bed, falling back into a fitful sleep in seconds only to be jolted as- DING DING. A message, he knew from the sound. Groaning at his newly-adrenaline-hit body, he rolled over to pick up his phone.

_What's so Goddamned important…_ He paused, eyes lingering on the message. Growling, he threw his phone across the room. "Oh my God." he said slowly. "That fucking bastard…" He didn't pause to even think on the message before grabbing his coat off his nightstand and pulling it over his night clothes. He picked his phone up along the way out of his room, knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep after his frustration hit this point. There were too many nerves involved, too much thinking that his mind was pulled in several different directions at once.

Anger pulsed through him, forcing him to act now; think later. And that's exactly what he found himself doing as his shoes were forced on before he exited his house. Shivering at the sudden coolness that was Colorado, he forced legs to move down the street-towards the "ghetto" of South Park.

He growled again, icy coolness mixing with the dark night in a way that he knew, logically, should have him on his toes. But after living in the area so long, you lose that part of you that gives a rat's ass about any of that. Though, Kyle knew it was his mind's familiarity that kept him from panicking as rustling of trees grew louder.

Sighing, he picked up pace, ready to scream his head off before contentedly sleeping once more. He knew he should have just left the situation as-is, but then, he knew he couldn't. He'd reached his peak. At two in the morning on a school night, Kyle Broflovski had finally had enough of Kenny McCormick's bullshit.

The memories of incidents not too long past had him gritting his teeth. He wished briefly, as wind pushed at his back chillingly, that he'd brought his hat. Pushing the zipper to the topmost area it would allow, his arms crossed. Bare hands grasped elbows, rubbing them for the warmth of friction.

Taken out-of-perspective, he could definitely see how odd the entire scene looked. Well, not exactly _odd._ After all he'd been through a walk in the middle of a freezing night could hardly be called weird. It might even be normal if placed by those standards. No, it was more of a movie-like feel to it. As if he was a minor character wondering along through deserted streets as a murderer plots his move in the bushes.

The thoughts had him shaking his head, _ridiculous._ He was tired, and the cool air was doing absolutely nothing to help that matter. "I just wanna bundle up in some blankets…" he muttered to himself.

He would've turned back at the tempting thoughts, but…

Green eyes blinked at the sight of the rundown trailer. _Too late to go back now._ he thought, hauntingly. A small part of him wondered if he should turn back anyway, the same part that warned him against the upcoming fight. But the headstrong part told him if he was already here, why turn back? It was illogical.

He didn't go up to the front door, no, he definitely didn't want to wake Kenny's parents for this. Instead, he found a small window to the side where he knew Kenny's room awaited him. Leaning down, knuckles rapped on the glass. "Kenny," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. Rapping again, he tried it a bit louder, "Kenny!"

A hand rapped on the glass back at him, no words needed to tell him to meet the other at the door. Stomping towards it, his mind found its way back to the text message. He tapped his foot impatiently. When a smirking blond opened the door, it was to a deep glare. "My my, Kyle, didn't think I'd excite you _this_ much!"

"Shut the fuck up and let me inside." Kyle demanded, arms crossed for warmth and defense both.

"Any hole; any time, babe," Kenny replied with a wink, opening the door wider to allow the other.

Kyle pushed past him, dragging the boy to his room. Whilst not as warm as his quickly-numbing body had hoped, it proved warm enough for his need. Once inside the bedroom, he closed the door hastily.

"Whoa, if I knew you'd be this hasty, I would've sent you that message a long, _long_ time ago…"

"Dude." Kyle began, "What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck?"

Kenny just tilted his head, long since immune to Kyle's death glares at this point. Noticing this, Kyle wondered just who should be most disappointed in themselves at this. But that was a thought for another time, another place. Now, it was about that _damned_ message.

"What do you mean? All my fucks are ever-loving not just one. Want me to show you?" he added as an afterthought.

"Dude, that was fucked-up."

"What?" Kenny asked, still not getting just what Kyle meant. Or fucking with him. Kyle was sure it was the latter.

"The fucking picture, Kenny." he stated bluntly, pulling out the evidence. He opened the message, eyes narrowing at the picture as he forced down any further thoughts for fear of blushing in front of the other. The picture… _Hand pushed inside waistband, pushing the fabric enough to show the barest bit of the what boxers held. Fingertips hugged the length with great familiarity-frozen in time._ He showed it to the blond, who smirked.

"My best work, I think," Kenny supplied, "Do you wanna know how to set it as your background or…"

"No, I don't want it as my background!" Kyle replied hastily. He huffed then, "Just- _Goddammit, Kenny._ Stop sending me this shit!"

The blond pulled a face at that. Disappointment settled onto the expression, a frown donning his lips. "You-you don't like it?" he asked.

_Oh great, overdramatic fake Kenny came out. Just fucking fantastic._ "No, I don't."

"But I-I made it 'specially for you! I didn't even show anyone else," Kenny stated dragging out the ending as his body moved side to side with what Kyle supposed were supposed to be suppressed nerves. But Kenny's act didn't work. The redhead was way too used to his bullshit by now.

"I don't. Fucking. Care. Just stop sending it! Hell, show everyone else _except_ me for all I care. Just _keep me out of it."_ he replied, closing the phone in his hand and placing it inside his pocket securely. It practically burned him being so close with such a personal picture on it. He should delete that soon. Hell, even now. But first… "Don't send me pictures anymore, it's fucking weird, _not_ funny, Ken!"

Kenny sighed, innocent act dropping immediately. In its place was something far more serious. Kyle was taken aback for a moment at this, unused to seeing this side of the other. He huffed. "Fine, but I have something to ask of you as well." Kenny countered.

Green eyes narrowed once more, further this time. He scanned the unwavering body with some wariness. "What is it?" he asked after a pause.

"Fuck me."

And just like that, all pretense that Kenny might be some sort of adult underneath the perverted child act dropped. "Fuck you!" Kyle said, turning from the blond as he readied himself for a no-doubt heated walk home.

"Is that a yes?"

Kyle growled, hands pulling at the strands of his hair in frustration at his lack of improvement of his situation. "Damn that fucking idiot…" he muttered as he closed the door behind him. He listened to the stifled laughs with a stiffening body. "Goddammit." he muttered, wishing he'd never even tried with the other. He should've known he wouldn't have found a way around the blond's constant perversion. And in a way, he knew he had known that before he even began the pointless walk.

_I just don't understand why I even try, but…If I don't try then it'll just get worse, right? Maybe… There's always the theory that if you ignore the "bully" then he'll just go away to find someone else to taunt._ He thought on this a moment. It wasn't like Kenny was bullying him, just sexually harassing him… So, okay, that sounds worse but it really wasn't. Was it? Kenny was his friend, his best besides Stan. Hell, the blond just thought all of his perversions were just a joke. He didn't understand that Kyle didn't like it. That he didn't find it funny at all. It was embarrassing. Uncomfortable even.

Sighing once more, he looked up from the dirt-filled floor to find himself in front of a hallway he didn't recognize. He needed light to make sure of this, as the moonlight didn't help much in situations such as these. His hands inched along the nearest wall, finding a smooth crack in the area. _Wait, what's this?_ He prodded the crack, using his opposite hand to feel for more of the spaces. There was one above him, and another to the opposite side. _It's like a door outline…_ Then, _Duh, it's a fucking door!_ He felt for the knob, thinking maybe he'd found the backyard at the very least. When his hand found a hollowness beneath wallpaper that apparently covered the doorway, he pushed at it questioningly. The door pushed inwards immediately opening for him.

Caught off-guard by the missing doorknob, he was propelled forward by his own overly-powered push. "Ow!" he sounded in a gasp as his legs stumbled over themselves. He had ended up on the floor, hardwood from the feel. Groaning, he tried to use his palms to push himself upwards only when his palms hit the floor did he notice a weird texture to it. Sticky but stiff kind of sticky, like it's been there awhile. _Knew Ken was gross but ugh…_ He shuddered, mind thinking of all the things the texture could be caused by.

The air pushed back inwards after the initial shock melted away, only to want to be forced back outwards with the sudden onslaught of a horribly rancid; rotten scent. He coughed, eyes watering from the overwhelming stench of the room. Pushing downwards on his palms, he managed an upwards position rather quickly, revved onward by the rancid smell that seemed to be physically thick enough to force him out by itself.

Vision already hindered by the night, the tears did nothing to help it. He tried to force himself up more completely, the smell too overwhelming to keep even his thoughts about Kenny's grossness from coming up. He just wanted _out of here._

He wiped his eyes with his shirt edge, not wanting to touch dirty hands to them. Vision wavered some, eyes burning from rubbing he tried his best to look around the room.

He stumbled backward this time, eyes wide; terrified at the shadowed sight that greeted him. Stench was forgotten-shock overriding as eyes centered on a lost head. Eyes stared at him and his mind picked up the word "lifelessly." It never sounded so much truer than here. He'd never fully known it until now. But now that he knew, he didn't want to know at all. Lifelessly. It was this. Fucking this. Inhuman almost. Soulless, dull. No glint, no movement at all. Unknowing. Worse than any doll Kyle had ever seen. They'd once been alive-but now there was none left. **Dead.**

He could barely comprehend what he stared at even as his mind pushed to the most logically blinding conclusion. His whole body shook with the thought of it. He might have even got away with thinking the woman had died in the room alone…until the neck.

The neck. Torn, jagged edged. Bloody. So much fucking blood pooled there. _5.6 liters,_ it echoed in his head-how much blood a human contained. It'd never sounded like too much. Not in theory. In practical-It filled the floor. He had touched it. She was dead, and her blood was literally on his hands. Who was she? Did she have a family? Why was she here? Why was she dead? **Dead. Fucking** _ **Dead.**_

Air left him completely, a twitching hand pushed against his throat. _I can't breathe-_

And he couldn't look away even as he tried. It was too much, _way too fucking much._ But it wasn't all. Just as his eyes finally managed to look away, they linked to what he knew was what was left of her body, or pieces of it. Bone chipped by a tool without any close precision. Like the person hadn't cared less if the body was cut right or not. Someone cut the body into pieces. Small pieces. They littered the corner, joined closely by a full body-almost untouched if not for the dark space Kyle knew had once held eyes.

Gasping, he closed his eyes this time, begging for the images to go away. But closed eyelids did nothing to hide the sight. It burned his mind, etched there even as he tried to force them away behind a closed lock.

Something touched his shoulder and squeezed lightly, the sudden action had him starting harshly. He would have screamed-yet his voice was lost. Would he ever find it again? Legs closed around his body, the hand enclosing further around him, arm now pushing his front down onto a welcoming chest. "Don't cry, Kye…"

_Kenny. Kenny._ _ **Kenny.**_ He couldn't move, couldn't pull away from the hold even as every instinct inside him screeched at him to do so. He sat there, realizing Kenny's words belatedly. _Cry?_ Hand on his throat inched upwards, Kyle's thumb touching his cheek softly; numbly. It was wet. _When…_

Time was going too slow yet too fast at the same time. It was overwhelming. Vilely overwhelming. Wrongly, disgustingly…

_Kenny._

"Shh…" A hand patted through his hair. "I didn't want you to see this just yet, Kye. You aren't ready yet. Even you should know which way to turn in the house…Why'd you have to go this way, Kye?" Kenny stated more to himself than Kyle. He sighed heavily, as if Kyle was in the wrong.

_Kenny._

"I don't want to have to hurt you, Kyle," Kenny said then, pausing mid-stroke of the redhead's curls. "But you weren't _**ready!"**_ It was said so harshly that Kyle started again, heart skipping beats as its rhythm was lost completely.

_Kenny, he…_

The blond settled his head atop Kyle's own, stiff body becoming even stiffer at the action. Sweat pulsed towards his pores, a horrible feeling pooling into his stomach.

_Kenny, he…_

Another sigh, "I'll tell you what, I'll forgive you! But just this once, 'kay?" Kenny said, voice lightened to that of the friend Kyle knew and loved. But so very different. It wasn't just fakeness, as Kyle knew it to be.

_Kenny, he killed these people…_

_Eyes widened further, tears streaming from non-blinking eyes._ "Ken…" he croaked under his breath, a feat he didn't care for trying again.

"Shh, don't worry Kye, I know what you're thinking. Like I said though, you're forgiven, 'kay? So just relax, you won't feel a thing, I promise!"

_Wait…_

A sudden push on his shoulder, and darkness pooled across his vision.

_Ken, you-you're…_

"No…"

_Insane._

He barely felt the lips press against his cheeks where the tears had manifested before he completely blacked-out, once-shaking body now fully limp in the blond's hold.


	2. Absolutely Nothing

_**I Pinch Myself to Check That All of This is Real -** _ **Absolutely Nothing,** _**Lily Allen** _

Kyle rubbed his head, groggily. He sighed, trying to roll over only to find a warm, solid thing stopping his roll. His hand pushed at it, only to flinch in surprise as an arm twisted around his middle at the action. "Kyle…" a soft moan said.

_Kenny. Oh God._ Kyle pushed away, the arm trying to hold onto him like a lifeline. He bit his lip to stop from crying out in desperation as the arm held tighter-still. It pulled him back against a solid chest. The chest he'd been against just last night. Was it even just a night ago? It felt like it.

He was nauseas.

"Kyle?" a more-awakened voice asked from the doorway. He looked up suddenly to see Karen standing there fully-dressed for the day. She narrowed her eyes in confusion at the distressed look on his face only to laugh when seeing her brother's arm pushing the boy down. "Oh, to get a camera or to help?" she asked lightly.

The redhead blinked at this, a realization he'd had no time to even think of hitting him full-force. No one knew what happened last night. No one but him and Kenny. He shuddered at the thought. _I'm going to be killed._ But then, why wasn't he already dead? Was it some type of game that Kenny played with people? Toying with them before the slaughter? His stomach twisted with revulsion. It was all just so wrong.

_Her face, she's just so happy-so unaware any of this is happening. Does Kenny joke about that? That none of us know anything?_

Karen helped him finally, taking her brother's arm gently into her hands and pulling it away. The same arm that kept Kyle from moving away just the night before. She smiled at her obviously-out brother. That look-it was so naïve, so caring. So loving. She loved him. Her brother-the same man who murdered people in their home.

_So loving…So carefree. Trusting even. After that, I still dunno if this freeness is real or some type of show people give others. How many shows did Kenny give me?_

"He's like one of those Chinese finger things, you see? The harder you try to get away, the stronger he'll get. However, the gentler you are and the more you push on him back, the less strength he'll use to keep you there." she said nonchalantly. Then, she laughed a distant laugh. "He used to do that to me all the time. It's one of his protective big-bro things, I think."

_Life goes on, even if those people-even if they don't get a chance to continue onward._ The thought scared him more than he ever thought he could scare himself. "Thanks," Kyle managed out after a pause.

She smiled at him, "Just don't start making out together when I'm there, okay?" She winked, laughing and hurrying out before Kyle could protest the statement.

He pushed himself up then, desperate to get away from the blond boy sleeping on the bed. Practically running to the room exit, he looked back at the boy he thought he knew. _Kenny. Why?_

Just as he let himself out for the relief of it, he found himself making another realization. One that had his heart racing in an entirely different way. _These aren't my clothes._ Indeed, looking down he saw a too-big shirt and baggy shorts. _Kenny's clothes. He changed me. Oh God._

He practically raced out then, glad that Karen had disappeared into her own room and Kevin was nowhere to be found. Kenny's parents were there, but much too zoned-out to notice a damned thing around them. He exited the building and ran bare-footed toward the nearest payphone.

He couldn't help but glance back a few times, paranoia building to a high he hadn't known existed. He was so confused yet… _I have to call the police. They have to know._ The repeated thoughts helped him process the entire situation, if only by keeping his thoughts on one action and only one.

He picked up the phone, dialing _nine-one-one_ before turning and pressing his back against the payphone's pole. It rang:

_Once._

_Twice._

" _Hello, South Park police department-"_

"I need help." he interrupted. "I was at my friend's house and I found people…they were. They were dead." he gulped.

" _Are you there or nearby at the moment?"_

"Yes, nearby."

"Address?"

He rasped out the address before, "I think he might be after me too. He found me after. He knows that I know."

" _We're sending a car."_ the voice assured, telling him to keep calm and that the police were on their way to pick him up. _"Name?"_

"Kyle, Kyle Broflovski. I'll be here by the payphone when they come. Just-just tell them to make it quick, please. I'm going to show them the room and leave."

" _Are you sure you can? Our officers are competen-"_

"Me and Ken-and him are the only ones that know the spot. I have to show them where."

By the time the officers did arrive, Kyle found himself on the ground. He didn't know when he'd chosen to sit only that he had. The policemen watched him as he picked himself up and he couldn't help but feel exposed. It was the only word that came to mind that expressed how he currently felt.

He was led to the car, and plopped down inside wearily. He was grateful for the silence as the others began the drive towards Kenny's home. He didn't think he could speak even if they asked him to do so.

The drive didn't take but a minute and Kyle found himself wishing that South Park had traffic. As much as he felt he needed to show what he'd seen, he didn't want to show them at all. Karen's face stuck into his mind. The love she had shown clung to him, made him wish he could just pretend it was all a prank. But morals overpowered those thoughts.

_What if they thought she was the culprit otherwise?_

The thought did nothing to help him. The guilt was still there. _It's Kenny's fault-not mine._ He kept it up like a mantra.

"This the place?" an officer asked, startling him out of his reverie.

He nodded, not trusting his voice. _They have the address._

He was allowed out after, hands helping heavy body pull itself from the vehicle. It was numbness he felt as cement feet climbed the smooth land towards the door. He gulped.

The knocking echoed in the silence surrounding them. And as the door opened, a hope Kyle didn't know he had held plummeted as Karen opened the door.

He watched eyes widen, stance stiffen from friendly to defensive. "Yeah?" she asked as casually as possible.

"We got a report-"

Kyle's eyes flickered downward as Karen turned to him accusingly, a speck of confusion wavering across her face. _It is rather obvious._ He knew that but there was still false hope. Hope he should have known better than to hold.

He blinked as they were allowed inside the home, wondering just how zoned out he was to miss the rest of the conversation. _Why would I want to hear it anyway?_

He shook his head, letting the cops fall behind him as he took the lead. Eyes still down, he barely missed the two obviously-stoned 'parents' that lay on the couch. _Still there._ Then, a thought.

_Was this because of them?_ He couldn't help but wonder if their influence helped the mess along. _Kenny was supposed to be better than them..._ The blond had hinted to it many times already, Hell, he'd outright refused to be placed on the same light as them at school. He'd forced himself to mature during class, if only to show the teachers that 'that McCormick kid' could learn too.

" _Please, Kyle? That stupid teacher has it out for me-I think it was that fight Kevin had with her… I need to pass, Kye, please?"_

_Kyle gave a huff, "Fine. But no jokes during, okay?"_

_Kenny smiled widely, "Promise."_

But unlike the past times he had found himself smiling at the memories, he didn't this time. In its stead, his chest tightened in despair. _He hadn't upheld the promise at all…_ He shook his head, no wasn't the time for this.

It shouldn't have surprised him so much when he heard the voice yet he still started all the same. "Is it my birthday already?" Suggestive, calm, casual. All the things a person shouldn't be upon seeing the police enter after what Kyle'd seen.

Kyle looked up to the speaker whom stood leaning against the bedroom doorframe, leg bent and hair tussled. He yawned at them loudly, a show of tiredness so blatant Kyle wondered if he was tired at all.

The blond moved from his position, stretching arms above head. Eyes gave each officer a once-over, "Wait, you're real cops, aren't you? Dammit." The last word was muttered with surprising sincerity. "Why're you here?" he asked then, absently scratching his stomach. The redhead watched the fingers, noticing specks of gray on his nails. _What?_

"We got a report that there was suspicious activity in this home."

Green met blue, then, one blue closed and opened quickly. A wink. Kyle could only stare. A smile broke the blond's serious façade. "Really, that's strange…" he said. "Well then, come on in, we've nothing to hide!"

Kyle's head tilted at this, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. _Is he really this insane?_ "We will." he found himself saying with outward confidence exceeding his inward nerves.

Kenny's smile only widened further, "Lead on," he replied, tone mocking Kyle's own.

Kyle didn't respond to that, didn't know how to respond. Instead, he chose to follow Kenny's words, and lead the now group of three toward the hidden room. Only, when he got to the hall, the door wasn't blocked like it had been. _He cleared off the wallpaper? Why…_

A flash of what lay inside was pushed to the backmost part of his mind. Still, he trembled as he pointed at the door and nodded to the policemen. Eyes closed automatically, subconsciously visualizing the disgusting sight from the night before. He grimaced at the silence surrounding him then-

"We're sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. McCormick."

"What!" Kyle exclaimed, opening his eyes to see the grey room behind the policemen. And on the floor, nothing. Absolutely nothing. "I-I…"

"Broflovski, is it? You filed another false report a few years ago, didn't you?" One policeman asked.

Eyes widened further, realization of why the question was asked hitting him hard, "You-you can't possibly believe I made this up?" he stammered out numbly. _The bodies…Where'd the bodies go? They were here, right here…Weren't they?_ His entire body shook now, insides numb, butterflies twirling in his stomach as a cork stopped inside his throat.

An arm around his shoulders had him starting. Head turned to the source immediately, stilling when his eyes met blue ones. "Kyle just…he had an episode, officers. It's not his fault, if anything it's my own."

"I didn't have an episode, Kenny!" Kyle screamed out suddenly, pulling himself away from Kenny. "You-what'd you do?" The walls, they were painted gray-his nails. "You bastard. You covered it up, I don't know how you did it so fast, but you did! You knew they were coming and you just moved those people!"

Kenny just shook his head, stepping toward Kyle. Too close for comfort, the blond opened his arms, pulling Kyle into a reluctant and tight hug. Kyle struggled against him, body panicking. "Shh, I know, it's going to be okay, Kyle. I promise. You're just confused right now, it's alright."

"What exactly is going on here?" An officer asked slowly, unsure what to make of the scene.

Kenny looked to him with sad eyes glistening with unshed wetness. "He's done this before, as you know. We usually are able to stop him before it goes this far but…I didn't recognize the signs. I'm sorry, officers, it's not an offense-he really thinks he saw something in this room. I don't want to charge him or anything-no harm done, right?"

The policemen exchanged looks, both bowing their heads at the meaning behind the words. One reached out to the two, patting a shocked Kyle on the shoulder. He twitched away from the hand, wincing as if it'd hurt him. "I'm not crazy." he announced. The others looked at the floor, decidedly looking away from his accusing glare. "He's lying!"

Kenny hugged him closer; ignoring the flinch Kyle gave from the contact. His hand pushed at the back of his head, nudging his face into Kenny's shoulder. He tried to fight the movements only to be pushed back firmly by strong arms. He could barely get a firm grip on the other, arms stuck between both their bodies.

"You're not crazy, Kyle, you just have some memory trouble is all." Kenny nodded to the policemen, gesturing them to make their exit.

They gave him sad looks in turn, "Best get him some help-real help. We'll let this one slide, but after the poll votes and this we can't allow you to not have him get some form of therapy. False reports can't always get overlooked, you know."

"Understood. We just didn't want him to realize it, you know? Thought he'd freak out…" Kenny shuddered, burying his nose on Kyle's shoulder. "But we'll be alright, I'll be there for him. No matter if he thinks badly of me or not. He's my best friend…" Kenny's voice cracked at the end.

A policeman sniffled at that, "Had a son with a problem, you'll make it through. It'll be tough, but you can do it."

"Thank you-"

Kyle finally managed to push Kenny away in a burst of anger, shock, and a mix of confusion that had his head spinning so fast he was physically dizzy. "What are you talking about?" Kyle growled angrily. "I'm not crazy, he's crazy!" he continued, pointing to Kenny with furrowed brows and a betrayed expression.

Kenny shook his head, "It's alright, I've got this." he assured.

They nodded, bowing their heads as they exited. "Come on, Kye, I'll get you something to eat." He tried to take the other by the arm only for his hand to be slapped away harshly.

"I'm not crazy!" Kyle repeated.

"Are you sure?" Kenny asked with a condescending smile. "It's okay, Kyle, crazy or not, I'll be here to watch over you. Always." The last word was spoken lowly, almost ominously in tone. Kyle shook his head, a dull ache settling under his skin.

He turned away, racing to the door. Kenny only laughed, hand rubbing its way down his face, "Oh Kyle, this is going to be even more fun than I thought."


	3. Mama's Broken Heart

_**"Gotta Keep It Together, Even When You Fall Apart..."** _ **Mama's Broken Heart,** _**Miranda Lambert** _

Kyle slammed the door. His back hit the wood, body slid down until his bottom hit the floor. Knees buckled, falling into an almost crossed position. Arms fell to his sides-limp; useless. _What just happened?_ Pants came out in shudders of air; his body shook still- _when will it stop?_ Head tilted down, neck giving out in despair.

_Did that really just happen?_ Confusion. It clouded his mind and only gave way to anger, angst, and anxiety.

" _I'm not crazy!" Kyle repeated._

" _Are you sure?" Kenny asked with a condescending smile. "It's okay, Kyle, crazy or not, I'll be here to watch over you. Always." The last word was spoken lowly, almost ominously in tone. Kyle shook his head, a dull ache settling under his skin._

The words repeated in his mind, echoing over and over again. Pulse thrummed under the skin of his head. A hand pulled at the curls waving in front of his face, tugging them away and pulling at them gently. _"Always."_ When did Kenny get so serious? Who says things like that? And accusing him of being crazy, putting on this desperate act for the police… It wasn't normal. The whole situation was surreal. He didn't feel quite like himself, instead placing himself at a distance from his body. _This is really happening._ He repeated it to his mind, yet it did nothing to help the numbness sweeping across his insides. Nor the shocked nerves twitching beneath his skin.

"I'm so fucked."

"KYLE!"

The yell startled him from his contemplation. He looked up to see his mother at the entrance to the living room. Gulping, a realization he had yet to understand completely hit him fully-After everything he'd seen in the past few hours, the sight of his mother as angry as she looked now still shook him. Mouth opened and closed, voice lost momentarily.

"You called the police!" she accused loudly. "Kyle Broflovski, what possessed you to call the police! That's a number only to be used for emergencies, and you know it!"

"I-" he croaked out, barely managing even that much.

"That's not even including your sneaking out to be at the McCormick's house last night!"

"I-"

"You are in _big trouble,_ mister! When your father gets home you are going to be sorry!"

"Ma-"

"Don't you 'ma' me, Kyle! I don't want to hear it!" she continued, interrupting him again. "Why did you do this, was it drugs?" She paused momentarily at this then, she gasped dramatically. "Oh God, my poor little-"

"Ma! I'm not on drugs," he shouted back. "And I called them because it _was_ an emergency! It still is-he hid bodies, I saw them and-"

"Don't lie to me, young man! The police are very competent, if they searched and found nothing then I fully believe them."

"You'd believe the idiots we call officers over your own son then?" he asked, tone accusing. "I saw human bodies. Dead bodies. And you think I'd make that up? That's sick, you're sick!"

Then, a pause of silence in which Kyle glared angrily in her direction, watching as she stumbled for words. She began quietly; slowly, "The police called me after they went to the McCormick's house." She stopped, choosing her words deliberately, "There was nothing there but an empty; clean room."

A hand stopped Kyle from trying to defend himself, "Kyle, they told me you'd done this before. That you accused that Cartman boy of stealing and hoarding ballots to swing the election in one direction." She trailed off then, as if testing Kyle's reaction. Waiting, she watched her son closely. The sad look she gave him then had him moving slowly upward from the wall. Arms closed over his chest, hands resting under elbows in a mock hug. Eyes trailed to the floor.

"I know what I saw." he stated with finality, bringing his eyes upwards to meet her own.

She sighed then, a hand rubbing her face. "Why would they lie, bubblah?"

"Why would I?" he asked back, voice cracking in realization. _She really doesn't believe me. Even about something like this…_

Kyle didn't know what to expect from his mother then, but not for her to give up, "We'll continue this when your father gets home." she told him. "Go to your room."

He blinked at her, looking away to the opposite wall. A hand reached out to the coat rack, reaching for a random jacket. He ignored his mom's indignant ramblings as he pulled on the coat and pushed on his extra set of shoes. He heard the shout of "Where are you going, Kyle?" but ignored the voice completely. Opening the door, he stepped outside, letting go of the door to let it slam shut by itself. Walking outside, hands met the insides of the coat pockets, feeling odd in his brother's jacket and suddenly grateful his brother had a growth spurt earlier that year. Though, judging by the extra space in the arms, maybe he'd grown a bit too much…

Sighing, he wondered briefly why his mind was changing subject for him. _Why am I even thinking about this?_ He shook his head, blaming the shock. Down the street, he saw railroad tracks and had to force himself to look away. _Stupid small town home proximities…_ Jumping up the steps to his best friend's home with greater familiarity than either ever cared to acknowledge, he knocked twice.

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a disheveled Stan Marsh. The black haired boy blinked at him owlishly. "Hey dude," he answered. Then, after a pause, "What's wrong?"

The door opened wider immediately, Stan's hand grabbing Kyle's own and forcing him inside when he didn't answer automatically. He dragged the boy upstairs, answering his mother's questions of who was at the door absently. When they got to his room, Kyle was led to the bed. He barely registered the door closing, numbness daring to take over once more.

A tilt in the mattress alerted him to his best friend's presence beside him. "Talk." he demanded, as if sensing Kyle's reluctance to do just that.

"I-I don't even know how to begin." Kyle admitted, feeling strangely uncomfortable in a place he considered his second home. His head tilted to the side unconsciously.

"Start with when you got home then." Stan responded easily.

"It didn't start then."

"Then start when it started."

"Two in the morning," Kyle said then, smiling despite his own emotions toward the subject. Legs shifted, feet lifting to plant themselves on the metal structure on the bottom of the bed. Knees pushed together, bottom of legs apart. Hand once held by his friend grasped the opposite arm's elbow.

Stan lifted an eyebrow, eyes shifting up and down his friend's form. "Kenny, then?"

Kyle nodded, not even bothering to ask how Stan knew. Stan always knew. Eyes shifted to the wall opposite Stan, sliding over the many posters he found there. Eyes paused on the Call of Duty one, the blood from the warzone reminding him too much of last night. He shook his head when Stan placed a hand on his knee. "He sent one of his stupid texts again," he admitted, grimacing at the memory. _Should I have known he wasn't quite right from all this? Were the texts hints? The way he acted when I called him on them…_

"You went over there," Stan half-asked, half-stated.

Nodding again, Kyle quirked a brow, but still held his tongue. "Finally had enough. After he acted as if I was the one who blew everything out of proportion, I began to leave. But, down the hall I stopped-there was the room covered in wallpaper I think-I thought it was a back entrance-it was really dark. I opened it."

"And?" Stan urged after a moment.

Kyle shifted, hand rubbing at his neck before both arms crossed. "There were people in there-they weren't alive, Stan. I-I think-I know he killed them."

A pause, "Are you sure?" Stan asked, voice notably higher.

The redhead nodded once more, unable to look at Stan. _"HIV_ positive." Kyle stated simply, knowing Stan would catch his seriousness with the usage of Cartman's most-stupid saying ever.

A new voice had him starting, "Kyle, that's not very nice!" Kenny exclaimed sadly, exiting the closet dramatically. He sighed then, "See, I told you, Stan, he's not even acting like himself. I mean, look-he's wearing Ike's jacket."

Kyle stared at the blond, gaping. "Because you took my coat!" he said then, tired of defending himself. "Stan, please," he added, eyes darting to his frozen friend.

"Dude, it's _Kenny._ He just-he wouldn't do something like that. I'm not even sure he _could."_

Kyle just stared at him, eyes shifting from one to the other in quick succession. "You're with him?" he asked, voice lowering.

"You're not giving me much choice, Kye…"

"'I'm not giving you much choice?' Really, Stan?" The hand on his knee gave a reassuring squeeze to which Kyle knocked it off quickly. "Fuck you, Stan!" He stood, angrily stomping to the door, pausing when the knob wouldn't turn completely. "The fuck!"

"Just listen to me for a moment, Kyle," Stan pleaded. "I didn't want to trick you or anything b-"

"Really? You didn't?" Kyle began sarcastically, hand placing itself upon his hip. "Sure seems like it to me, but then again, what do I know? I'm just insane."

"But," Stan continued as if he was never interrupted, "Kenny was really freaked out, dude!"

"Kenny's freaked out?" Kyle asked quietly, then, _"Kenny's_ freaked out. I'm fucking freaked out, Stan!" he yelled.

Stan sighed heavily, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Kyle, dude, I just-"

"I don't want to hear it," Kyle stated. "Let me out."

"No, not until I-"

"Say goodbye to your door in three-"

"Kye, just listen to me-"

"Two."

Stan stood then, "Dude, come on just-"

"Last chance Stan, I swear to God I'll do it." The redhead glared, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

A pause in which Kyle positioned himself directly in front of the door. "Okay, dude, fine."

Stan knocked five times on the wood, waiting. Kyle just stared, gaze heated with anger. The door opened, Butters twiddling his thumbs on the other side. Kyle began to exit, but turned back once, "Go to Hell, all of you." he stated before leaving the room completely, then the house.

"Well, _that_ could have gone better," Kenny said lightly.

"Not like you were jumping in anytime soon," Stan replied equally.

"Dude, he thinks I'm a serial killer, I doubt my input would've helped the situation at all."

Stan sighed again, his head hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose, too lost in thought to neither notice nor care about Kenny exiting soon after.

-0-

Kyle walked down the road, unsure where to go. _He already got Stan and mom…_ he realized. _Who else is involved now?_ he couldn't help but wonder. This was getting elaborate, something he never thought Kenny could be in his life.

He growled, unsure where to go now, because even if Cartman were the last person on the planet that didn't hear about this from Kenny first-Kyle sure as Hell wasn't going to him for help. _Not like he'd do anything but laugh, and laugh, and laugh…_ He sighed, "I really am fucked."

"Not yet, but you could be soon."

_Kenny._ He paused in his step, refusing to look back at the no-doubt smirking blond. _How'd he get here so fast?_

"Wasn't hard to catch up, you know. Not like you're running anywhere specific now." Kenny said, as if he could read his mind.

"Goddammit." Kyle muttered, strained. "Go away."

Kenny tilted his head, stepping closer to the redhead. "Why? The view's nice back there and all but the front's where the fun bits are!" he laughed, stepping even closer, almost beside the other now.

Groaning, Kyle turned finally, "How can you do this right now?"

"Do what?" Kenny asked innocently, all traces of his smile disappearing immediately with his response.

"This-the comments and insinuations!" Kyle reminded, waving an arm as if it helped demonstrate his point.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Kenny said then. "But if you want to demonstrate, I'm sure I can help."

"Go to Hell."

"Thanks but no. It's not as fun after you go there so long. But, I tell you what, if you're hellbent on it, I'll go. But you'd have to come with me."

_Not like the usual comments but at least it's not too bad… just weird, still though-_ "Dude, you fucking killed those people."

"And?" Kenny stressed the word, shrugging. "They deserved it."

Kyle stilled at that. "You-you admit it?"

"Why not? What're you going to do, call the police?" Kenny laughed at the end, unable to hold in the chuckles. "Maybe tell your mom? Stan? Hell, try Cartman next, he loves a good laugh!"

Kyle backed away a step, feeling too close for comfort now. "You're fucked-up."

Kenny shrugged again, leaning forward toward Kyle, "Took you long enough to realize it, sweet cheeks." The blond cracked at that, laughing harder than before.

The heat building in anger had Kyle turning away from the other. He walked back home, having nowhere else to go. _This has been pointless._ He sighed, trying his best to ignore the blond trailing behind him obviously. _He's not even trying to hide._

"… _watching over you. Always."_

He shook his head, blinking at the driveway. His dad was home early. _Mom must've called him._ He pushed himself up the sidewalk toward the house. _I'm going to have to face them sooner or later. And it's not like I have anywhere else to go, too cold for that._ Arms wrapped around him, wrapping the jacket around him more fully.

A chill down his spine had him shuddering involuntarily. "This is going to suck." he whispered. The door in front of him had come too quickly. Biting his lip, one hand clenched in his pocket. "Here goes nothing…"

When the door opened, it was like a domino effect. Immediately, his mother entered the room, his father following obediently. He closed the door behind him, not bothering to turn around as he did so, a part of him afraid he'd see Kenny standing there, that damned grin still on his face.

"Hi…" he said finally, the silence grating.

"Don't you 'hi' me, young man! Leaving like that-why your father has had it and so have I!" Sheila began, hands on hips, feet planted away from each other.

Gerald, his father, had a less dramatic demeanor, arms by his sides. He watched his wife with trepidation then turned to Kyle, "Kyle, your mother and I have been talking and we think you should-"

"You're going to apologize, mister! Then, you're going to clean this entire house top to bottom. You. Are. Grounded!" Sheila interrupted, tone much more offensive than her husbands.

Kyle stared at them both, dumbfounded, "Apologize?" he asked, voice too high suddenly.

Gerald opened his mouth, but his mother beat him to the answer, "Yes! You are to march over to the McCormick's and apologize to your friend!"

Kyle's mouth clenched, a tight-lipped smile forcing itself onto his face. "Sure, ma, and while I'm there I'll ask him to kill me too-" Fists closed, thumbs encasing themselves inside the finger shell safely as his mother interrupted him _again._

"Kyle Broflovski, you _will_ go and apologize correctly! You know better than to act like this, Kyle and I am _sick_ of this teenage rebellion!"

"'Teenage rebellion?'" he repeated. "Sure, that's why I called the police, because I'm rebelling against you." he stated dramatically. _This is so fucking stupid. Am I really arguing this right now?_ He wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs about the unfairness of the entire situation. It just didn't make any sense whatsoever. Then again, neither did anything in South Park. But something like this…

He was hit with the realization he'd tuned out his mother's next rant almost completely. _At least something good came out of this constant thinking…_ "-And another thing, you're going to therapy until you're able to stop yourself from these kinds of decisions!"

"Wait, what, you can't be serious!" he replied, shock replacing most of his anger.

"What do you expect us to do, Kyle? You're acting out, and you won't listen to reason-you even walked out on your mother!" Gerald exclaimed.

Kyle blinked at them, unable to see how come _he_ was the crazy one here. _Are they even listening to themselves? The explanations, I just don't understand._ His head pounded its retaliation at the entire situation. Refusing to answer, he crossed his arms defiantly before walking to the stairs. Sheila continued after her husband, telling him how disrespectful he was and how the whole town would think they'd raised him wrong. He caught something about how she'd never live this down before he reached his room. The ear-splitting yells did nothing for his headache, the same statements about his acting out were repeated over and over again.

"Maybe I really am going insane…" he said to himself before closing the curtains on the darkening sky. His mother screamed still, his dad vainly trying to stop her. _Breathe in…out…_ He turned off the alarm clock, not wanted to be wakened at all if he did get sleep. _It's already seven thirty…_ He wondered how long he'd been asleep, but stopped that line of thought. He really didn't want to think of everything that'd happened whilst he was in bed. "Ugh." he exclaimed as if it would get rid of this stress weighing down his shoulders. In a way, it did.

Lying down, he couldn't help but feel out of place in his own bed given the circumstances. The mattress felt too stiff, the cover too cold. _Maybe if I go to sleep, I'll wake up to reality._ The thoughts left him more comfortable. _Yes, I'll just wake and the text will still be on my screen, recently opened._

Rolling over, his hope continued, eyes closing in attempts to quicken the sleeping process.


End file.
